


Rouge

by orphan_account



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Sexy Zone
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:05:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hurt Kento to just sit by and watch Fuma suffer, when all he wanted was to hold him close and protect him from all harm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rouge

**Author's Note:**

> So, this had originally been a drabble I posted for my drabble challenge, but a lot of people demanded for me to expand the story, and well, this is what came out of it.  
> I have to thank all the people who participated on this story - B-Chan, who beta-read and reassured me, Cortney, who squealed over every bit I sent her and tried to answer the most stupid questions, Micchan, who helped me create the original story line, and Michelle, who extended it with me. A big hug to all of you for your patience, I love you!

Kento’s POV

I already had an ungood feeling, when my doorbell rang at half past midnight. It was not that I had been in bed already – I had been caught up in that song I had recently started writing and had been unable to stop myself despite the late hour – but yeah, spontaneous visits at this time of the day had never been any good.

So I was not surprised when I opened the door to face a Fuma who looked like a complete mess – hair wild, probably from running his fingers through it like he usually did when he was frustrated, eyes red and puffy, his lips sore from biting them.

“I’m sorry to burst in so suddenly” he whispered, his voice cracking. “But I just-“

He did not need to finish the sentence. It was not the first time he had stood in front of my door in the middle of the night, needing someone to talk to. It made me happy that he confided in me this much, because I knew he hated showing his weaknesses to anyone, but it was just… just that I hated the _reason_ for these spontaneous visits too much to really appreciate them.

But instead of voicing this out loud, I stepped aside in a silent invitation. Fuma entered my apartment, kicking off his shoes and making himself at home immediately, plopping down on the sofa and burying his face in a pillow.

I inconspicuously gathered the papers on the table and packed them away. No need for him to see the lyrics just yet. It would only lead to uncomfortable questions. Instead, I asked: “What happened?”

“We fought” he murmured into the pillow, but I still caught his voice, muffled as it was.

“I figured that much” I sighed, sitting down next to him, wearily watching his crouched figure. “You always come here after you do.” I hoped he did not hear the unspoken words between the lines: _You only come to me when she hurts you_.

Fuma had been a mess like this regularly for about 2 months now, and it was getting harder and harder for me to just sit back and watch. It had started when he had co-starred with this upcoming actress in his new drama, and he had immediately fallen head-over-heels for her. For a few incredibly difficult weeks, he had been gushing like a love sick puppy, and when he had finally found the guts to ask her out, and she had agreed, his smile had been so bright that it had been hard for me to even look at him.

It was then, that he had found out that she already had a boyfriend. Someone else from the industry, someone bigger than Fuma would probably ever become as an actor, and someone so busy that she claimed to feel “left behind” by him.

Since then, Fuma had let himself be dragged back and forth in this secret affair by this girl who claimed to love him, but still was unable to break up with that other guy.

When Fuma had first told me about it, I had called him insane. Because seriously, no girl was worth being treated like this. And above all Fuma, who had always put so much importance to his pride, who had always put himself first…

“But I love her” he had whispered when I had told him to leave her, his eyes filled with sudden tears, and it had choked me with my words. “I can’t help it…”

Since then, I had been sentenced to play the help line for Fuma every time he fought with her, or she stood him up because her boyfriend had called in last-minute… When all I wanted was to slap that girl senseless for treating him this way.

When Fuma did not react, I asked, with a patience I didn’t really feel: “What was it about this time?”

“I told her to break up with him” Fuma murmured, looking up from the pillow. Everything inside of me tightened when I saw that he had tears in his eyes again. “But she refused and then… it kind of got out of hand.”

I only nodded, watching how Fuma bit his lip again, trying to fight his new wave of tears.

“Say, Kento, why can’t I just be enough for her?” he murmured brokenly. “What am I doing wrong?”

I took a deep breath and balled my hand into a fist, trying to keep myself together. Because seriously, all I wanted was to shake him, to scream at him that he was _more than enough_ , that he was perfect in every way and that this girl was just too stupid to see that.

That if I could, I would hold him close and never let him go again, and that this girl who had him but did not treasure him must be the silliest girl on earth.

But I told him neither of this. Instead, I murmured, for the xth time: “You should just break up with her. She is no good for you.”

“I know” he whispered, closing his eyes and resting his head against the pillow again, as if he just wanted to sleep and shut the world off. “I know that, but…”

He let the sentence hang in the air, but he did not need to finish it. I could hear the words anyways.

 _I love her_.

It made me feel sick to the bones. Because yeah, I knew that feeling. I knew how it felt to love someone despite all logic and sense, to not be able to withdraw yourself no matter how much it hurt.

And that person was lying right next to me on my couch now.

As I focused on his face, I noticed how his breathing started to even out a little, and he slowly relaxed.

“Ne, Kento” he murmured, not really opening his eyes. “You mind if I crash here? I don’t want to go home.”

I nodded, murmuring: “Of course” when he did still not open his eyes. Even more quietly, I added: “You know you are always welcome here.”

Fuma smiled a little, stretching himself out on the couch and opening his eyes for a moment to say: “I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously.”

I knew it was an expression of appreciation, but it hurt like a knife right in my chest. So instead of answering, I just stood up to search a blanket for him.

When I came back, he was already fast asleep. I could not help but kneel down in front of the couch after I had pulled the blanket over him, brushing his hair out of his face.

“This girl is so stupid” I whispered, finally speaking out the words I could never tell him when he was awake. “You deserve so much better. I hate to see you suffer like this.” I bit my lip before bending down to kiss his temple softly. “If it were me, I’d treat you so much better” I breathed. “If you’d just let me, I’d… I’d never let you go. I love you, Fuma.”

I took an unsteady breath, taking his scent in for one more moment before pulling away.

When I looked at his face, his eyes were wide open, staring up at me in shock.

“K-Kento?” he stuttered, scrambling himself up into a sitting position, and I just watched his movements in horror, unable to react. “I… what?”

I gulped, my head spinning because _damn_ , I was not going to tell him. He wasn’t supposed to know, because I was his friend, his rock in the storming sea, and… I did not want to take this away from him with my selfish feelings. 

He had always been there for me when I had needed him, even in my darkest times, and I was going to do the same for him, no matter how much it hurt me to watch. 

“I…” I breathed, but I was not sure what to say, where to begin. Fuma was watching me, staring at me in a weird mix of fear and hope, fear of what he had just heard, and hope that maybe he had misunderstood, maybe…

I wondered if he would believe me if I told him that it had just been a lie, that I hadn’t meant it. Maybe he would, because it was easier to accept for him than the truth. But looking at him like this, broken and fragile, laced by different layers of pain from this unhealthy relationship he was in, I just… couldn’t. 

Because he needed to know that _someone_ loved him, even if it wasn’t the person he wanted to hear it from. 

“This girl is stupid” I repeated finally, like I had told him so many times, only he had never seemed to quite understand it. “She has the most amazing guy, begging her to be with him, and she just… I don’t get how she can treat you this badly. I can’t wrap my mind around it. I don’t even know her, but I hate her for it.”

“Kento” he whispered, but I shook my head, silently asking him to let me continue, to not interrupt me now, when finally, I was speaking my mind. 

“I’ve known you for almost 10 years” I said. “I know every facet of you, each of your secrets, the good things and the ones you are ashamed to remember. You don’t need to put on a mask in front of me, I still love you the way you are. You are perfect to me, and you should not let her make you believe otherwise. You shouldn’t need to put so much effort into making someone love you. It’s wrong.”

I could see the tears in Fuma’s eyes again, and it made me hurt almost physically because I knew that those tears were caused by me this time. 

“I want to take care of you” I said finally, my own voice choked from the emotion. “I want to not let anyone hurt you ever again. I want to make you happy, because you made me smile again when I thought that I couldn’t. Your smile was what made me feel better when I was down, so… I can’t stand to see your tears now.”

Fuma took in a shaky breath, and I held in, not sure what else to say. I expected it when Fuma murmured, barely audible: “I love you, Kento, but… not the way you want me to.”

“I know” I nodded, my throat tight. “I know you don’t... swing that way.”

“I am sorry” he breathed. “I wish I could-”

“Don’t” I shook my head. “You don’t need to explain. I always understood you best.”

Fuma bit his lip at the statement, probably knowing that it was true, and I took a deep breath, trying to smile. 

“I don’t expect anything from you” I said quietly. “I’ve known that you couldn’t return my feelings from the start, so no need to worry about it. I just… I really beg you to overthink this thing with _her_ , because… you deserve better” I concluded, barely audible. “Just, know that you are not alone. And that if she weren’t a girl, I would go punch her right now.”

Fuma let out a strangled sound that seemed like something between a chuckle and a sob, but I did not wait for him to return anything. It was not like there was anything more to say, really.

“Try to sleep” I sighed, sending him a smile as sincere as I could manage as I got up from the couch. “Goodnight.”

I made it until I had closed the bedroom door behind me before I clasped my hand over my mouth, desperately trying to keep quiet as the tears I had been so desperately trying to keep in check in front of Fuma slipped over.

***

It had been during the filming for the Bad Boys J movie, years and years ago, that I had realized that I was gay. It was not like it had been a sudden revelation - things never worked that easily, not in real life, at least - it had been more of a creeping process of realizing that, instead of all the girls I was wooing in front of the camera, I was more interested in the guys standing in the spotlight with me. 

Especially Shigeoka Daiki. 

I had always had a weak spot for Shige, really, but the more time we had spent working together, the more I had realized that really, my feelings had gone beyond friendship and maybe a little admiration. 

It had been enough to make me close myself off completely, from _everyone_ , not only Shige. To the outside, I had kept up the pretense of everything being alright, keeping up a facade as professional as I could.

I had not been able to fool Fuma with that, though. Fuma had noticed, and he had kicked against my walls furiously until they had broken, and there had been nothing left between us but my mess of emotions lain out before him. And Fuma had not judged me, not for my sexuality, not for anything, just had hugged me and had told me that it was okay, that I should not be ashamed of who I was, that he still liked me just the same, gay or not. 

He had picked me up again when I had been down, and it had been his support that had made it possible for me to confess to Shige, in the end. 

Shige had accepted my feelings and I had been so euphoric about it, so blinded, that I had not realized that he had only done it to not hurt me, that really, his heart had not been in it. 

He had honestly tried, for the next couple of weeks, until we had reached a point where even I had realized that it didn’t work. That he had been shying away from every contact, from everything that had made this more than friendship, really. 

When I had stood at Fuma’s doorstep in tears, telling him that we had broken up, he had been there for me. He had listened to me, had let me cry until I had been too tired to string any thoughts together, and had let me crash at his place, watching out for me. 

He had punched Shige into the face the next time he had seen him and hadn’t spoken a word to him until today, even though years had passed, and though I knew that it hadn’t really been Shige’s fault, I kind of had been thankful to him. 

I had felt loved by the way Fuma had tried to protect me, and before I had known it, my feelings for Shige had died down more and more, and instead, were replaced by feelings for someone else.

For Fuma, of all people, but as soon as I had admitted it to myself, I had sworn that this time, I would not act on them. Because no matter what, I would not endanger my friendship with Fuma, not for anything in the world. 

I had not counted on _this_ to happen, though, on Fuma falling into this hole, on this sudden, urgent need to protect _Fuma_ now, instead of the other way around.

The state Fuma was in now reminded me a little of myself back then with Shige, of the way I had desperately clung to the idea of this relationship, ignoring that it hadn’t worked out. And Fuma was doing the same, when I knew that really, there was no way it could end well. If she had really wanted to be with Fuma, she would have already broken up with that other guy. And even if, by some miracle, she left him, in the end, there was no saying she would not cheat on Fuma next. No matter from which way I looked at it, Fuma had to get away from this. 

But I had no idea how to make him see that, and that feeling of helplessness, of wanting to protect the one I loved but not knowing _how_ to, was the worst thing ever.

***

Fuma kept his distance from me for a few days after my confession, and I let him. I knew better than to be offended about it - of all the people, I knew that Fuma was not judging me for my feelings. It was more his way of trying to protect me, of giving me a distance to not hurt me any further. 

The problem was, though, that I did not really care about my own feelings right now. I knew that when I was not with Fuma, I could not help him when he needed me, and though it hurt me to see _him_ hurt by the person he loved, it was still better than him suffering alone. 

It did not take more than a week for Fuma to reach out to me again, though. I did know who it was immediately when my doorbell rang at 2:30 am, and though I had barely heard it the first time, still too fuzzy from sleep, I had jumped up as soon as I had realized that the bell had not been part of my dream, running to open the door.

Fuma was crying when I came face to face with him, shaking slightly, his hair falling into his face as he looked down, not meeting my eyes.

I stared at him, balling my hands to fist as I refrained from reaching out to him, from pulling him into my arms to hold him close. 

“I don’t want to be hurting anymore” Fuma whispered finally, meeting my eyes, looking at me like I was his last hope, and it clawed on my heart. “Please, Kento. Make me forget.”

“How?” I whispered, finding it hard to breathe with the way Fuma was looking at me. “Tell me what to do, I will do it.”

Fuma did not answer vocally. Instead, he crossed the distance between us and cupped my face in his trembling hands, leaning in to catch my lips with his. 

The way he kissed me was rough and demanding, and I could taste the desperation on his tongue, but instead of pushing him away, I pulled him inside, closing the door behind him as I kissed him back.

I tried to put all the feelings I had for him into the kiss, trying to show him how much I loved him through actions rather than words, knowing that he had always understood things better that way. 

Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew that this was wrong. That I was only a comfort to him, and that he was searching from me what he could not have from the girl he loved. 

The problem was, that I wanted to give it to him. Screw the outcome. If Fuma was here, kissing me, asking for me to love him, I would not turn him down. 

Fuma’s fingers kept trembling all the way through the night, as he removed my clothes, as he skimmed touches over my skin, all the time. But never once did he pull away from me, clinging to me like a life line every time I as much as caught my breath. 

His skin was cold under my fingers, making me wonder how long he had walked in the dark before he had found the courage to come to me. He was responsive, though, little gasps falling from his lips at every touch, and ocassionally, my name, which fueled me on to keep going.

I had never slept with anyone else before. I had gone out with a couple of guys after Shige, but I had always chickened out before it got serious, too afraid of what might happen. Also, none of them had been Fuma, so whenever I had as much as kissed them, it had felt wrong.

With Fuma, it felt right, even though he was here for all the wrong reasons, so I let him do whatever he wanted with me. I did not stop him even when things got intense, and I thought fuzzily that, even if nothing would ever happen between me and Fuma again after tonight, there had been that one night where Fuma had wanted me, and no one could take that away from me ever again. 

When I woke up the next morning, my lower back was hurting and I felt disoriented for a moment, but then I took note of the warm naked body pressed against my side, and Fuma’s head resting against my chest, his messy black hair sticking into every direction. 

I could not help but reach out to stroke over it almost in a daze, feeling a little guilty when Fuma blinked his eyes open, looking confused.

“Kento?” he whispered, and then he turned his head and his eyes met mine.

I smiled, despite the obvious perplexion in Fuma’s eyes, and continued playing with his soft hair. 

“I… I was not going to come to you” Fuma said finally, his voice rough from the sleep, so he cleared his throat once before continuing. “I don’t know how I ended up at your doorstep, I just-”

“It’s okay” I interrupted him. “I understand.”

“How?” he breathed. “I don’t even understand myself.”

“We are partners” I said simply, and Fuma gulped, seeming somehow pained by that statement. 

“You shouldn’t be so nice to me” he said finally. “I am too weak at the moment. I will take advantage of you.”

“You can take advantage of me all you want” I shrugged, my fingers catching on a knot in his hair, and Fuma blinked before sitting up.

“No” he said, looking alarmed. “I don’t… No! I don’t want to hurt you!”

“I don’t want you to hurt either” I said calmly, watching the emotions roll over Fuma’s face. “And if you feel better by being with me, that is okay.”

Fuma stared at me for a strangely intense moment, before pulling away completely, getting up to search for his clothes.

“I need to leave” he murmured, more to himself than to me, and I just kept quiet as I watched him fuss about the room and get dressed, fleeing the room without another look back. 

I turned to my side and closed my eyes again, trying hard to go back to sleep, to not think or feel.

***

It took only a week for Fuma to be back. His lips were as desperate on mine as they had been the first night, and when he kissed down my neck, I thought I heard him murmur: “Forgive me” against my skin, but maybe that was just a trick of my mind. 

From that point on, Fuma kept coming to me in irregular intervals. Sometimes, he was with me three nights in a row, never really leaving, and sometimes, he managed to stay away for one week at a time, but whenever that happened, he turned up the next time in tears, so I prefered to keep him close.

He seemed more balanced when he was with me. Sometimes, I could see that trace of self-hate in his eyes, and it worried me a little, but most of the time, he seemed to be relaxed in my presence, and it made me feel a little happy.

He did not stop seeing the girl, coming to me whenever they had had another fight or he had been stood up because of her boyfriend, but in the end, he seemed to feel better whenever he was with me, and that made me hope that maybe, someday, he would stop seeing her in the first place.

Even if, maybe, I would not be needed anymore when that happened. 

“Why can it not be the way it is with you when I am with her?” Fuma had asked me once, when I had already been half asleep, his arms around my waist as he had been pressed up against my back. “Why can’t it be that easy? Why can’t she just love me back the way you do?”

“Why can’t you just stop seeing her and love me instead?” I had murmured without thinking about it, and Fuma had gulped, his arms tightening around me. 

“I love you, Kento” he had whispered.

“But not enough” I had pointed out. 

Fuma had not answered, and I had slowly drifted off to sleep, too exhausted to continue talking. 

***

The longer the situation continued, Fuma going back and forth between her and me, the more it seemed to be a strain on him, though. I could see that he was starting to hate himself, not only for not being able to leave her, but also for coming to me every time when he couldn’t deal with the situation. 

I tried to be reassuring, to tell him not to worry about me, but the trace of guilt flashed up in his eyes more often than I was comfortable with, and I was not quite sure how to erase it.

Still, I did not count on it when I woke up in bed alone one night after he had come over. I had blinked at the clock, seeing that it was only 4am, so there was no way he would have left already. Also, as I turned around, I could see his shirt still lying on the floor, indicating that he was still around somewhere. Maybe he had gone to the bathroom, or was searching for something to drink?

It was then, that I saw the faint glow of light through the gap under the door, making me frown and get up.

I found Fuma sitting on the couch in the living room, having turned on the small floor lamp next to it. He did not notice me, at first, and I was going to speak up when I realized that he was holding a couple of papers in his hand, and that slow tears were running down his cheeks.

I blinked, not understanding what was going on, until I recognized what it was that was openly lying on the table: The folder with my song lyrics. I must have left it there when he had showed up earlier that night, forgetting to hide it like I usually did. 

I could not help myself - I crossed the room on instinct, snatching the papers out of Fuma’s hand before he could react, collecting everything and stuffing it away. I cringed a little as I caught some of the words scribbled on the paper, embarrassed about the far too emotional things I never said out loud, especially not to him, though all of my lyrics revolved around him, and him only. 

I hesitated a little before turning back to Fuma - he had pressed his fist to his lip as if to stiffle some of the silent sobs, and stared onto the now empty table, not looking up at me.

“Let’s go back to bed?” I asked softly, reaching out my hand for him to take it. 

Fuma shook his head, and I sighed.

“Please, Fuma” I whispered. “It’s-”

“Let’s stop this” Fuma interrupted me, his voice sounding like a hundred pieces of cracked glass. “This thing between us. We should have never started this.”

“Because of what I wrote there?” I enquired, a little breathless. “It doesn’t mean anything, Fuma. It’s just lyrics.”

“It’s your feelings!” Fuma called, finally looking up at me, and his eyes were full of pain and self loathing and it hurt just to meet them. “It means one hell of a lot, and I don’t want to be the person hurting you anymore! I am no better than her if I keep doing that!”

“That’s not true!” I protested, but Fuma was still shaking his head. “I never asked you to stop, right?! I am okay with this!”

“That’s the problem!” Fuma called. “Why are you so _fucking_ okay with this?! I am using you! You should be furious with me! Why do you let me do this?!”

“Because I love you” I said helplessly.

“Yes, I know” Fuma whispered. “And that’s the problem. I can’t do this anymore.”

I only stared at him, unsure of what to say as my heart beat droned in my ears, but from the way Fuma looked at me, I could see that he had made his decision, and that no matter what I would say now, I could not change it. 

***

Fuma’s POV

Pushing away Kento was the hardest thing I had ever done. He was the one person that had always been there for me, throughout all this shit. I knew that he loved me unconditionally, more than anyone ever would, and all I wanted was to let him protect me and shield off all the demons that haunted me down constantly these days. 

Kento and I had always had this bond. We understood each other, and that was something I had never found with anyone again, in any kind of form. Not even with _her_.

I loved Kento, but that was exactly the problem. Kento was _awesome_ , he was kind-hearted and caring and perfect and deserved all the good things in life, and here I was, trambling all over his feelings. And he had just fucking _taken_ it, never complaining, and I just…

I had wanted to punch the hell out of Shigeoka when he had hurt him back then. I had been so furious with him, because I had not been able to understand how anyone could hurt Kento. My mind had not been able to process it.

And now I was here, doing the same fucking thing, only worse, and it made me feel like scum. 

I knew that I was out of my mind, but I did not let that stop me as I made my way through the neighborhood. The sun was slowly starting to rise, but there was no one crossing my way, most of Tokyo still fast asleep. 

When I reached her house, I did not even hesitate - I did not care if her boyfriend was home. I had cared enough in the last year. I was done with caring about anything. 

I rang the doorbell five times until she finally opened, wrapped up in a bathrobe, looking at me furiously. 

“Fuma!” she called. “It’s 5am, what the heck are you doing here?!”

“We need to talk!” I said, pushing past her, and she looked perplexed at my vehemency, but did not try to stop me, only closing the door behind us. 

Her boyfriend was not home, but I should have known that, because she wouldn’t have opened the door if he had been. 

“Fuma, what is going on?” she demanded finally, crossing her arms in front of her chest and eyeing me crossly. “Did you drink?!”

“I have never been clearer, thanks!” I snapped, turning to her and meeting her glare firmly.

“Then what is it?!” she demanded impatiently.

I only stared at her for one more moment, before I said, very quietly: “This is the last time I will ask you this: Break up with him.”

She gulped, biting her lip. 

“We’ve been through this, Fuma” she murmured. “My career, and-”

“I don’t care” I said simply. “I don’t care for your excuses. Just break up with him.”

“I can’t” she called in exasperation. “You know I can’t!”

“Even if I tell you that I’ll be gone if you don’t?” I challenged, and she rolled her eyes.

“We both know you _won’t_ ” she pointed out, and it was that simple sentence that made me snap, though she had muttered it so many times. 

“You don’t know _anything_ about me!” I called, making her flinch at the volume of my voice. “Do you know how I suffered this past year?! Do you know what I did for you?!”

“Stop fucking shouting!” she hissed, but my voice only grew louder.

“I have been sleeping with someone else!” I yelled, and her eyes widened. “For several months now! And you didn’t even notice!”

“You are _cheating_?!” she shrieked, and I wanted to laugh at the irony of her words, but I was too busy yelling. 

“There is a person that loves me!” I called, everything inside of me tightening because _fuck_. “More than you ever will, and I keep hurting him because I can’t let go of you! So give me one good reason to stay, because I am so fucking done with being patient and running after you!”

She only stared at me, not answering, and it was all I could do to keep from punching the mirror on the wall next to me. 

“Why am I even doing this?” I whispered finally, looking at her, for the first time _really_ looking at her, without the rose-tinted glasses and the puppy love clouding my mind. 

She was just a girl, after all. She had never treated me right, and really, what had she done to deserve my feelings?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

And more than I was furious with her, I was furious with myself for not seeing it before, because when I looked at her now, there was nothing but hurt pride and anger, no feelings left at all. 

Nothing like what I had felt when I had broken up with Kento earlier. Not even the slightest trace, and I felt like crying because _what had I been doing for the past year_?!

“I’m done with you” I said finally, all strength having left my voice. “I am so done with you.”

And for the first time, I knew that those words were true.

***

I did not tell Kento that I had broken up with her. I felt like it would be hypocrital to go and ask him to take me back, because really, I had taken too damn long to realize the most obvious thing.

I was not sure anymore why I had clung to that unhealthy kind of relationship so desperately. In retroperspective, it seemed absolutely crazy to me. I had no idea what I had been thinking. 

I had thought that I would not be able to live without her, but now, it was Kento who was keeping me up at night. It was Kento about who I thought as I cried into my pillow. Kento who I wanted to hold me close and never let me go again.

But I knew that I had no right to ask for this. Because I had been his best friend, and I had sworn to protect him, and in the end, I had gone and used him in the most cruel of ways. 

No, I had no right to demand anything of him ever again. If he knew what was good for him, he would never let me close to him again. 

I tried to stay strong, to keep my distance, to not even search for his gaze throughout work when really, all I wanted to do was hug him in the middle of the whole crew. 

It was hard, though, especially when the photographers kept shoving us together like they always did, and suddenly we were required to touch and look into each others eyes, and Kento’s brown orbs were so full of emotions I was not ready to read, and it was all _too much_.

I did not usually drink, only a glass or two when I was out with friends, but never intently, never for the sole purpose of getting drunk. That night, I bought a whole bottle whiskey, and I drowned almost half of it in the matter of an hour as soon as I was home. 

I felt terrible afterwards, an almost blinding headache when I woke up the next morning and bruises all over my skin from running into walls, but at least, this kind of pain droned out the other things I was feeling a tiny bit. 

It was supposed to be a one time thing, but before I knew it, I had emptied the bottle by the end of the week, and the next week, three of them. I knew that it was bad and that it was starting to affect my life in all the wrong ways, but I felt like it was the only way I had left to deal with the pain of not being able to reach out to Kento. 

It was after almost two weeks of this, that Kento became aware of it. He chose one of these evenings to turn up at my door, and I had already had a few shots intus as I opened, wondering if I was hallucinating when I met his gaze. 

“Fuma?” he asked, his eyes widening as he scanned my face. “You - you reek of alcohol!”

My first instinct was to deny it, but then, I lost my footing and had to hold onto the door frame to keep standing and yeah, Kento did not need my answer after that, instead pushing past me to let himself in. 

He was quick to find the empty bottles that I had stored in the kitchen, and when he finally faced me again, I had difficulties to look into his eyes (and not only because there were three of him). 

“When did this start?” Kento demanded, sounding more furious than he had ever become with me before, and it made me feel a little like I was five years old again. “When?!”

I raised one hand and tried to count, but quickly gave up and shrugged awkwardly. 

Then suddenly, Kento was right in front of me, and I was not sure when he had moved, but then his hands were on my shoulders and he was shaking me, and yeah, someone should tell him that this was not a good idea.

“Fuma, what are you doing?!” he called. “I know you told me that you can’t break up with her, but if she is making you get wasted over her like this, this is really too much! You need to stop!”

“I broke up with her” I finally brought out, hoping I wouldn’t need to throw up, and thankfully, Kento stopped shaking me then, looking at me in confusion.

“What?” he asked breathlessly.

“I broke up with her, like… 5… 8… I dunno” I gave up, and I could see that Kento had trouble following me. “This is not about her. She is stupid. I am stupid.”

“If this is not about her…” he said slowly, as if still trying to catch up with my words. And I had thought drunk people were slow. “Then what is this about?”

 _I need a drink_ , I thought fuzzily, looking fleetingly for the still halfway full bottle I had left on the couch table, but Kento caught my chin, forcing me to look at him. 

“Fuma” he said exasperatedly. “If you don’t talk to _me_ , I will call A.B.C-Z to take care of you. And I swear I am not joking.”

I made a face, imagining Tsukada delivering a Kinpatsu-Sensei lecture about alcohol being a bad bad thing while Kawai devided all my supply between the rest of the band. 

“Fuma, what is going on?!” Kento whispered, and his hand on my jaw traveled to my cheek, cupping it softly. “You are too smart for this! Why are you doing this?”

I forgot to breathe because I was weak to Kento soft-talking me and Kento in general and before I knew it, I whispered: “I miss you!”

“... What?” Kento asked, blinking, and his tongue came out to lick over his lips in a nervous gesture, and my eyes followed it, immediately distracted and putting my mind on standby.

When I leaned in to kiss Kento, he mumbled something in protest, but I clung to him, my head spinning as I moved my lips against his like I had craved to do ever since I had broken up with him in the first place. 

I did not expect it when Kento pushed me away forcefully, making me stumble and land straight on my ass, looking up at him in rejection. 

“W-what are you doing?” Kento stuttered, looking as if he could suddenly use a drink himself. “What is this about, Fuma?!”

“I love you” I mumbled, looking down at my hands and trying hard not to cry. 

“I thought you loved _her_?!” Kento demanded.

“I thought so, too, but… Then I realized that she is stupid and that you are wonderful and that I am the biggest moron ever.”

“Then why did you not tell me?” Kento continued, sounding angry again and yeah, I could understand that, because I was dumb and it was about time that he got angry with me. “If you wanted to be with me, why did you not-”

“Because I am worse than Shigeoka, that ass” I interrupted him, the tears finding a way into my eyes, and shit, I had apparently not drunken enough. “I am an _ass_ ass. You deserve someone better. You shouldn’t be with me.”

Kento groaned in frustration, and when I looked up, he was standing right in front of me, kneeling down until he was on my eye level. 

“Will you for once let _me_ decide what I want?!” he snapped, but his eyes were soft as they met mine. “I told you that I love you. I told you that I want to be with you. What do I need to do until you will let me?!”

“But it doesn’t make sense!” I whined. “You should be mad at me! You should never want to see me again!”

“I am mad at you!” Kento rolled his eyes. “I am furious because you are slow and stubborn and you don’t talk to me!”

A tear slipped my eyes at his words, and Kento reached out to wipe it with soft fingers. 

“But you can make it up to me from now on” he murmured, dropping his hand again to search mine, entwining our fingers. “By being with me, and showing me how much I mean to you. By making me forget that there ever was someone else in your life.”

“Kento” I whispered, and he smiled softly as I squeezed my hand.

I leaned in, desperate to kiss and feel him now that I finally could, but Kento held up his free hand, stopping me. 

“No!” he said firmly. “No kissing! You taste of alcohol and you reek and this is as close as I get to you tonight.”

I whimpered, and Kento smiled. 

“We are getting you into bed now” he said, making me feel like a five year old again. “And tomorrow we will see how much you still remember of our little talk right now, and look how we go from there.”

“Are you coming to bed with me?” I asked, completely missing the point, and Kento sighed as he shook his head, brushing his hand over my hair softly. 

***

When I woke up the next morning, I had an almost sickening headache again, so I just lay there for a moment, trying to clear my brain and to find the strength to get up and face the day.

It was then, that I remembered Kento’s face and Kento’s smile and Kento’s words and I was not sure if it was an alcohol induced dream at first, but when I carefully lifted my head, I spotted a bottle of water, a pack of paracetamol and a note on the bedside table.

I reached for the note, and needed about five minutes to focus my eyes enough to read it, but when I finally did, I recognized Kento’s neat handwriting. 

_Good morning (or noon, because I don’t think you will manage to open your eyes that early),_

_I had to leave for a photo shoot, but I will be back again by early afternoon, I think. Please do me a favor and shower and get yourself in a halfway addressable state until I am back. It is time for us to talk._

_I emptied all your comfort bottles into the sink. Don’t even try to buy new ones, or I swear I will become uncomfortable._

_See you later,_

_Kento_

I read the note 4 times, not only because I needed longer to understand it in my state but also because I was so craved for the underlying warmth in the written words that I wished I could crawl into that note and hide in it. 

When I finally managed to get up to wash my wasted self off of me, it was almost 3 p.m., and I was a little worried that Kento would be back before the painkillers had kicked in. But I still had time to drink some coffee and tentatively gnaw on a Onigiri until the doorbell rang. 

Kento was watching me closely as I let him in, obviously still deciding if the rest alcohol was gone from my system, and I kept my distance as I made my way back to the living room to sit down on the couch, trying not to reach out to him after that pathetic performance of mine last night. 

“Do you remember everything that happened last night?” Kento asked finally, sitting down next to me. 

“Mostly” I nodded. “I am really sorry.”

Kento made a face, enquiring finally: “For getting wasted, or for telling me that you miss me?”

“For getting wasted” I murmured regretfully. “And for not approaching you further. Though I still don’t know why you would want me back.”

“Let that be my worry” Kento said with a small smile, at last looking up to meet my eyes. “You really broke up with her?”

“The same night I broke up with you” I confirmed, watching the surprise in Kento’s eyes. 

“Then why did you not just tell me?!” he groaned, shaking his head. “It really makes no sense to me! Why would you break up with me if you want to be with me?!”

I kept quiet, not quite sure what to answer to that, since I had spoken my mind yesterday, and as confusing and unconnected my words might have been in my wasted state, I was not sure I could make them any clearer now. I knew that it probably didn’t make much sense to anyone outside my own head, but still, the feeling of wanting to protect Kento, even if it was from myself, that had been real and clear even before this whole thing had started. Maybe ever since I had met him. 

Kento sighed, and I was surprised when finally, his hand found mine, squeezing it gently. 

“Well, whatever” he murmured, his voice raw, as if he was as tired as me from fighting his own demons. “I want to be with you, and you want to be with me. Don’t you?”

“Of course I do” I whispered. 

“Then let’s just stop this and be together” he said simply, looking up to meet my eyes hopefully. “What’s the point of fighting our feelings any longer? Let’s forget what happened and move on.”

“Do you think we can?” I murmured, still unsure. “Do you think _you_ can?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t blame you?!” Kento groaned, frowning at me. “Stop beating yourself up!”

“It’s not right, though!” I complained, that tight knot of guilt that I had never quite been able to shake away straining against my heart again. “You should be mad at me! I want you to be mad at me!”

“What do you want me to do? To punch you?!” Kento scoffed. “Will it make any of us feel better?!”

“Yes!” I called, biting my lip in desperation. “It _would_ make me feel better, actually. I deserve it.” 

Kento let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. 

“Forget it” he replied, but his voice was soft now. “I won’t hit you. Not even when you ask for it.”

“I thought you wouldn’t” I sighed, but couldn’t help but smile a little at his words. “You are too soft to hit anyone.”

Kento made a face at that, and I chuckled, holding onto his hand more tightly.

“I guess I’ll have to find ways to make it up to you” I said finally. 

“Yup, you do” Kento said firmly, smiling as well as he looked at me expectantly. “And you can start right now.”

“I am allowed to kiss you now?” I inquired teasingly, and Kento made a contemplative face.

“You seem sober enough. But I swear, if I see you getting drunk like this one more time, I might actually consider violence!”

“I won’t do it again”I said sincerely, because I needed Kento to understand at least this much. “I just didn’t know how to deal with my feelings for you and it kind of ended in this. But I am not addicted or anything. I won’t touch alcohol ever again if you don’t want me to.”

“Good” Kento nodded, and I was relieved to see that he was not doubting my words. 

It was enough for me to finally reach out to him properly, to pull him into my arms and hold him tightly, pressing my nose into his hair and taking a deep breath of the scent that I had missed all these weeks. Kento wrapped his arms around my middle and we stayed like that for a while, just hugging and enjoying each other’s nearness. 

When, after what felt like a short eternity, Kento pulled away to look at me again, the little smile on his lips was so sincere that it warmed my heart and made me feel like maybe, if I was able to make him smile like this, it was okay to be with him, in the end. 

“I love you” I whispered, moving a hand up to cup the back of his neck, stroking the roots of his hair softly. “Let me show you how much. Let me take care of you from now on, please.”

“Okay” Kento whispered, and if possible, that smile grew a little wider, making me want to kiss it.

And then I just did, because really, nothing was keeping me anymore.

I kissed Kento softly, with all gentleness I felt for him, and he melted into it, holding onto my shoulders as he kissed me back languidly, like we had all the time in the world, and it felt amazing to just kiss like this, without the urgency and the desperation and the pain that had always laced our kisses before. 

Kento’s arms around me tightened as our kiss continued, as if he wanted to crawl beneath my skin to be even closer, impossibly closer. I did not stop him, instead pulling him towards me until he was sitting in my lap, bathing in his warmth our bodies aligned with each other. 

It were Kento’s hands that began wandering, first only through my hair, running his fingers through the strands appreciatively, before letting them travel down the front of my shirt, feeling the muscles of my chest through the clothes, until he reached the hem and slipped under it to touch skin. 

Kento’s fingers were curious, as if they were learning my body anew after the long time apart, and maybe marveling in the fact that I was now all his to touch, no other person standing between us now. 

It made me drown in the feeling, and I could do barely more than closing my eyes as I let myself explore his mouth as we continued kissing slow and deep, letting him touch me all he wanted, creating little shivers all through my body. 

After a while, Kento began to swiftly move his hips, slow rocking movements into my own, and I moaned into the kiss, helpless as he slowly worked me up like that, as the pleasure spread over my skin like a slow tingle. 

“Kento” I whispered after a while, and Kento pulled away to look at me, his breathing uneven as he met my eyes, soft long fingers still running over my chest underneath my shirt. “I want to feel you.”

Kento nodded, and his hands went down to the hem of my shirt, lifting it up over my head. 

We kept kissing as we undressed each other, unwilling to stop only for once second, resulting in Kento almost crashing backwards into the couch table as he tried to get out of his pants without getting up from my lap. I caught him, though, and little giggles shook his body as he weakly tried to kick of his jeans, and I marveled in the happiness he radiated now that finally all problems between us had been erased. 

I would do everything to keep that smile on his face from now on, I thought fuzzily. Everything. 

When finally all of our clothes were lying in a mess on the floor and Kento had settled comfortably in my lap again, his skin felt so good against mine, so warm and soft and perfect that I wanted to take my time to touch every inch of it. 

Kento had other plans, though, from the way he was still rocking against me, more intently now, making our bare erections slide against each other. I moaned when he reached down a hand between our bodies, taking both our shafts into his hand, stroking us slowly. 

“I… don’t have stuff” I brought out finally, flinching at the realization. I had never gotten any since we had always met at Kento’s place, and he had been prepared. 

“In my bag” Kento whispered against my lips, making me blink in surprise, but I did not question it as I used one hand to hold onto his hip to make sure he wouldn’t fall as I moved, before slightly leaning forward to pick up the bag Kento had dropped on the floor. I needed to fumble a little, expecially with Kento’s attention still between our bodies, but finally, my fingers closed around the little tube, pulling it out and pushing the bag away onto the other end of the couch. 

I noticed that my fingers were trembling slightly as I lubed them, not from nervousness, but more from the strong emotions that were running through me by being that close to Kento again. 

I arched my neck with a gasp as Kento thumped my tip, sparks of pleasure running through me, and Kento latched his mouth to my throat, sucking. I was pretty sure he was leaving a mark, but really, I didn’t care. 

When my fingers found their way to his entrance, slowly tracing the tight ring of muscles with lubed fingers, he rested his forehead against my shoulder, trying hard to catch his breath. His fingers on our erections sped up a little as if to encourage me, but I took my time, careful as I pressed one digit into him. 

He was tight, due to the long seperation, but he still pushed back against my fingers eagerly, moaning when another finger slid in at the pressure. 

We fueled each other on, his fingers picking up speed as mine scissored inside of him, and his grip tightening around us when I grazed that spot inside of him, making him whisper my name. 

“Fuma… enough…” Kento demanded as I intently stroked over his prostate, making him shake in my arms. “I need you. Now.”

I nodded, close to my own limits myself with the way Kento was still stroking us, so I softly slipped my fingers out of him. 

Kento grabbed the bottle of lube from next to us on the couch and squeezed some into his hand, lubing my erection with it, and my hips twitched into his touch. 

He raised himself up on his knees a little, and I squirmed down on the couch, helping Kento to align my tip to his entrance. He kept holding my base as he slowly slid down on me, and I was mesmerized by his face, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly opened around a silent moan. 

When finally, I had bottomed out and Kento was sitting completely in my lap, gasping for air, I had to close my eyes, overwhelmed by the hot and perfect tightness around me, by Kento’s muscles squeezing down on me in a way that made it hard to hold still and wait for Kento to adjust. 

“You feel so good” I whispered, my hands squeezing his hips shakily. “God, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too” Kento breathed, and he leaned in to catch my lips for a sloppy, breathless kiss. 

We kept kissing, all tongue and no finesse, until both of us couldn’t take the stillness anymore, craving for friction. 

Kento was the one to first lift himself a little, allowing me to thrust into him, making both of us moan. 

We created a slow rhythm when, not nearly enough to bring us to completion, but that was not my goal, not for now. I just wanted to feel Kento, if possible, to make it last as long as I could, to show Kento everything I was feeling for him through my touch and to make him forget what I had put him through before this moment. 

Kento’s fingers found their way into my hair and he kept kissing me clumsily, keeping me close as he moaned against my lips, little half sentences and my name, over and over again. 

After a while, I sat up a little, wrapping my arms around Kento as I changed the angle, making him moan loudly. His fingers tightened almost painfully in my hair, but I did not care as I thrust into him intently, marveling at the groan I got in response, telling me I had found his prostate again. 

I sped up my movements then, holding him tighter to my chest as his body quivered in my arms, and his muscles tightened around me. His neglected erection kept sliding against my abs, and for a moment, I thought about sneaking a hand down to stroke him in time with my efforts, but then I would have had to change the angle again, and Kento’s loud moans kept me from doing that. 

Kento was unusually vocal today, and I marveled at it, drowning in every sound I was able to squeeze out of him. 

“Fuma” Kento moaned into my ear, just as the pleasure was becoming so intense that I was losing all control over myself, my movements becoming rougher and more uncoordinated. It made me shiver and my hold on him tightened, and when Kento licked over the shell of my ear, it was the last straw. 

I let out a high pitched moan as I came, Kento shuddering as I pulsed inside of him, kissing me through my high as I stilled, losing grip of everything that wasn’t Kento above me and all around me. 

When I opened my eyes again, at last, Kento was still trembling in my arms, close to the edge himself, and I pressed a quick kiss to his neck before lifting him up. 

Kento looked at me unsurely as I lowered him down onto the couch, but I kissed the question off his lips before moving my lips down his body. I was distracted by the quivering muscles of his stomach for a moment before I finally moved down all the way, right to where he was hard and leaking. 

My fingers were still slightly slippy, from both our sweat and the lube earlier, and it made it easy to slip two of them inside of him again, probing until I found his prostate. Kento’s back arched in a desperate moan, and I wasted no time to mouth his shaft while my fingertips stroked his insides, swallowing it past my lips and running my tongue over his slid, tasting the salty precum. 

Kento’s fingers found my hair again, holding onto it as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked, all the time prodding his prostate, taking him higher and higher.

A breathless gasp of my name was all the warning I got before his muscles tightened around my fingers, and he twitched in my mouth before he came. I pulled back a little to not choke, but kept licking him through his high until he jerked and pushed at me with a little whine, oversensitive to my touch. 

I crawled up his body until I could pull him into my arms again, turning us around so I was lying on my back and he was pressed up against my chest, his breathing slowly calming down as he clung to me. 

“This was…” he panted, not being able to end the sentence, but I nodded anyways, knowing exactly what he meant. My whole mind was still buzzing from all the intimacy, and it felt like the sex we had just had had been on another level than everything we had had before, filling my heart completely with everything that was Kento, and my feelings for him. 

We lay there until both of our breathing had evened out and the air of my living room was starting to feel cold against our skin, so I wrapped us up into a blanket and held him close, unwilling to let go. 

“This seems almost surreal” Kento whispered, pressing his face into my neck. “I had almost given up hope that it could ever be like this between us.”

I held him a little tighter, biting my tongue to keep from apologizing again. Instead, I turned my head to kiss the top of his head and whispered softly: “I love you.”

I could feel Kento smile against my skin and I swore to myself to never, ever let go of him again.


End file.
